


and so happy christmas

by brahe



Series: brahe's 2017 advent bingo [11]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Christmas tree shopping, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Post-Canon, ac2017, adventchallenge, christmas in gravity falls!, christmas trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-14 00:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: Mabel and Dipper head to Gravity Falls for Christmas break.





	and so happy christmas

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly don't know what this is. today's story was originally going to be a different fandom and a different prompt, but i just finished watching the series (again) and my hand slipped. lowkey inspired by the many times my mother has picked a tree and then taken it back to the store to get a new one. that seems like something mabel would do, imo. also kinda wanna write some more for them in a similar vein as this, so we'll see how that goes  
> for the prompt "christmas tree" and title happy xman (war is over)  
> (also a day late but finals so we're gonna pretend)

The Skype video loads, little circle spinning in the middle of the screen, and then Mabel’s face materializes, the pixels disappearing after a moment.

“Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, guess what!” she half-shouts. "Mom and Dad are gonna let us come for Christmas!" 

They both blink at the screen, but Stan is the first to recover. "That's great, kids! How did you manage that?"

Mabel waves her hand around. "That's not important," she says, as Dipper comes crashing into the frame, landing half on top of his sister.

"Mabel told them that Stan didn't really die in the car crash and he'd been missing for forty years but now he's back and it really helped him when we were there so we should be allowed to go for Christmas because -" 

"Because it's the holiday and holidays are the best!"

"That's certainly...creative," Ford says, looks at Stan, who's grinning now.

"When are you coming? The Shack won't decorate itself and I - we could use the extra hands."

"Next week!!" Mabel nearly screeches.

"Oh, Great Uncle Ford, check out my science project," Dipper says, then, holds up a poster board that's mostly cut off by the constraints of the camera, and launches into a spiel about this week's antics at school, interrupted halfway through by Mabel and a story about Waddles. The two of them go on, talking over each other until they're called for dinner, and the house feels too quiet, too still when they hang up. 

"It'll be good to have them back," Stan says, looks around the living room. It's back to the way it used to be, walls on one piece and ceiling fixed. There's glitter in the carpet - Stan doubts that there's any amount of deep cleaning that could get it all out. Dipper's box of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons is in the corner by the TV, and there's a new blue and white baseball hat waiting for him on top.

"They've only been gone three months," Ford reminds him, but he's wringing his wrists and looking at the picture of the four of them on the side table.

"Sheesh, you're mopey. What gives?"

Ford doesn't answer for a while, and Stan almost asks again, but he's gotten used to the way Ford has to build up to a release of information. It's not very difficult from the way he was when they were kids.

"It's nothing. Really. I just - I've been gone for a really long time, and it's been a lifetime since I've done a lot of things." He says, and Stan waits for him to finish. "I haven't celebrated Christmas since - since."

Stan looks at his brother, thinks about all the things he knows Ford hasn't told him, will likely never tell him. He hadn't thought of that before, but it makes perfect sense - what accidental interdimensional traveler has time for human traditions like holidays and birthdays?

"Well then, it's a good thing the kids are coming," Stan says. "Can't have you getting your old man angst all over the holidays. They haven't changed that much - still lights and trees and presents and food."

"Right," Ford nods, and Stan sighs, knows he's lost him to more memories.

"C'mon, Ford," he says, ushers him up. "Enough of that. We've got attractions to update and a house to clean before Dipper and Mabel show up." Stan stops for a moment, hand on Ford's shoulder. "Besides," he says. "It's been a long time for me, too."

 

Waddles is the first person off the bus twelve days later, and Mabel and Dipper almost trip over each other trying to get off the bus at the same time.

"Grunkle Stan!"

Stan's quickly ambushed by two bouncy teenagers, toppled over in the grass by a very enthusiastic hug. He laughs, hugs them back a little tighter. God, he loves these kids.

He feels Dipper wiggling around in his grasp and cracks an eye open to see his nephew reach for Ford.

"Twin hug!" Mabel yells, and Dipper pulls Ford into their little pile, flailing and landing a little roughly in the dirt, but he simply offers them a smile and joins the hug.

That's something they've been doing more of, Stan and Ford - hugging, arms slung over shoulders, blanket shared on a small couch. Stan likes to remind himself that Ford's still there, that everything that's happened hasn't been some wild dream, so he keeps a hand on Ford's ankle, shoulder, arm, keeps them touching whenever he can, keeps himself grounded in reality. He imagined it's something similar for Ford, if the way he panics every time Stan disappears from sight for too long is anything to go by.

Mabel waits until they’re in the car to bombard them with questions. “Do you have a tree yet? Can we put lights on the Shack? Do you have wrapping paper? I need bows! What about hot chocolate? And marshmallows!”

Stan laughs. “Yes we have paper, no bows, though. There’s plenty of hot chocolate and a huge bag of marshmallows because my brother here forgot how much he loved them and bought _three bags_. And no, we don’t have a tree yet. But that’s what today’s for!"

Three hours after that finds them at one of the small tree nurseries that’s cropped up in time for Christmas. “Grunkle Stan, can I pick out the tree? Please? Mom and Dad never let me,” Mabel begs, turns wide eyes on Stan, who immediately gives in. Not that he was planning on refusing her.

“Of course, sweetie. It just has to fit in the living room.” 

“ _Yes!_ ” Mabel takes a moment to appraise the rows of trees, then turns her gaze to the other three behind her. Something settles on her face when she looks at Ford.

“C’mon Grunkle Ford,” she says, grabbing his hand and tugging him after her. “We gotta get the perfect one!” 

Dipper and Stan trail after them, though slower. Dipper’s got his hands in his pockets, brow creased in thought, and Stan is just about to ask what’s on his mind when Dipper speaks.

“How have you been?” he asks, darts a look up at Stan. “Since - since the Weirdmageddon thing?”

Stan raises an eyebrow at him, but Dipper’s stilling looking at the ground. “I know we talk all the time, but Mabel’s always there, and so is Grunkle Ford, and I know - I know you didn’t remember as much as you said you did when we left. But I wanna know the truth. It’s okay, I-I can handle it.”

Both of Stan’s eyebrows are raised now. This kid never ceases to surprise him. Stan huffs, thinks about what to say next.

“You’re right,” he says eventually. “I didn’t remember very much. But I remembered you and your sister, and our summer, and that’s what was important. Everything’s pretty much come back now,” he shrugs. “I’m doing okay.” He reaches for Dipper, ruffles his hair a little, and Dipper smiles at him.

“Good,” he says, and his shoulders settle a little less tensely. He looks across the aisle to where Ford’s got Mabel on his shoulders and she’s investigating the tops of the trees. “Mabel was really worried about you,” Dipper tells him. “I was, too.”

Stan looks back at Dipper. Of all the places he expected to have a heart to heart, the middle of a Christmas tree market was not one of them. He takes a deep breath, and the smell of sap and Douglass Fir fills his nose.

“It hasn’t all been easy,” Stan admits. He’s distracted for a moment by the sound of Mabel’s laughter, and then Ford’s, which still surprises him sometimes, that his brother is alive and back in the proper dimension and he’s okay enough to laugh about Christmas trees with their great-niece. Dipper’s watching them, too, and he makes a sound like a laugh and a sigh smushed together.

“C’mon,” he says, pulling Stan along like Mabel had done to Ford earlier. “Enough emotions for now.” He looks at Stan from the corner of his eye, and Stan laughs.

“Couldn’t agree more with ya, kid,” Stan says. When Mabel sees them approach, she makes to lunge for them, forgetting her perch on Ford’s shoulders, but he catches and rights her before she can fall.

“Dipper, Grunkle Stan, this one is _perfect_!” she tells them. “It’s just tall enough that we can fit a star on it, and it’s fluffy but not _too_  fluffy, and the branches are perfectly spaced for hanging ornaments.”

“Sounds like quite the tree,” Stan agrees, and Ford sets Mabel down to help Stan pick it up and carry it to the front. Dipper and Mabel follow them, hanging back just a little.

“So what’s up with you and Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asks. Dipper smiles.

“Nothing,” he says. “I just wanted to make sure he was going okay.”

“Is he?”

Dipper nods. “Yeah, he’s okay.”

 

It takes them about an hour, but they get the tree back to the Shack and into the living room, where Dipper and Mabel have cleared a spot for it in the corner. Stan and Ford settle it into place.

“I’m so excited!” Mabel half-squeals. She’s standing on the chair in the far corner, ready to judge the final position of the tree. “A little to the left,” she says, and the elder Pine twins wiggle it over. “Stop! There’s perfect. Now lemme see…” she says, and Stan and Ford step back as she looks it over. She’s got a rather serious face on for wha the job is, and Dipper sees it coming before she announces,

“No, it’s not perfect at all. We have to take it back, Grunkle Stan!”

Ford looks at Stan, a little wide-eyed, and Dipper’s just trying not to laugh. Stan shakes his head. “Mabel, sweetheart, you can’t return Christmas trees,” he tells her. She crosses her arms.

“Can’t we just _exchange_  it? This one’s all wrong! It’s too tall and too wide and it just doesn’t work.”

Stan looks to Ford, but he just holds his hands up. “The last time I did anything with a Christmas tree was in the 60s,” he says, and Stan sighs.

“Okay,” he concedes. “We’ll take the tree back.” Mabel cheers, and he points a finger at her. “But, no guarantees they’ll take it and let you pick a new one.”

They all know, though, that Mabel will get to find a new one, whether or not the store will allow it. They’ve been willing to fight more powerful enemies over less in the past, Dipper knows, and he smiles to himself as they restrap the tree to the top of Stan’s car.


End file.
